


As sweet as you

by Coils



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Support, Financial Issues, Living Together, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-27 02:26:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17758034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coils/pseuds/Coils
Summary: The Nice Cream Vendor is helped through some tough times by his new business partner (and possibly more....)





	As sweet as you

The blurry sight of your shabby, if colourful and tastefully furbished living room clears between your squinted eyes as they adjust to the newly lit lights. You step away from the garage door, stretching and wriggling out of your parka, anxious to deposit the heavy, cumbersome piece of clothing onto your handy clothes hanger. Your hand recoils at the chilly touch of its surface, as you have the urge to put it to work on stroking and rubbing your arms and chest, to quickly warm yourself up. Even covered by the thick, woolly sweater you’re wearing, Snowdin’s bitter cold provides a far from ideal treatment to your naked, non-magical human skin, your legs still lightly shivering from all that walking on the cold. Today presented quite the rough trek through the snow for you, hours upon hours of hard work in such a harsh climate having left you exhausted. You sigh and shake your head, a speck of doubt rearing its icy thorns in your head, making you wonder how worth it all of this is. But as soon as the couch blanket wraps around your shoulders and rapidly evens out the temperature difference between your blood and skin, you remember how very much worth it it is.

His fingers tread carefully along your neck and shoulders, securing the blanket’s comfortable holding atop your torso. After the echoing clank of the garage door closing dies out, you hear him coo a quaint, excited giggle as his lanky body clasps against your back, his azure paws hanging onto your mid-section, the ensuing hug warming you up in more ways than any blanket or heating system could ever do. _“Thanks for all your help today, sugar cone! You really helped me out again… Packing up is sure easy when there’s two of us! Come, get comfy on the couch, I’ll put the kettle on while you warm up!”_ Despite your recent considerable temperature raise, a shiver quakes along your whole body after he plants a gentle kiss on your neck. A tender yet stern pat of his soft hands directs your body towards the couch, the flannel cushioned seats scrunching under your weight. He’s already left you be, gone into the kitchen to start making your tea, like every time you’ve finished your routine with him.

As you warm yourself up in your snug seat, turning on your paltry, cheap portable heater on, you cannot help but shake the feel that you are overworking him, even taking into account you are many times more vulnerable to cold than he is. There’s also the fact business was not very good today, and even if you’ve come to be invested on it, your efforts simply pale compared to his. His Ice Cream stall is his very life, and seeing it profitability strain like this is making you worried about his well-being. But like a sky blue sun tearing apart the dark night skies, his beaming face emerges from the kitchen door as he rubs his hands together, eagerly striding to your side, his usual eager happiness glistening out his body, illuminating the whole room. He slides himself towards your arm, eyes closed, the silky touch of his head rubbing against your shoulder through the blanket. You hear a sigh come out of his mouth as he nestles his cheek against you, humming. _“What a day we had today… I don’t know how I would have gotten the molds ready this morning if you weren’t up early to help me set them up. You are the sweetest, my sugar cone, you always give it your all for me!”_

The fervor in your stomach boils so brilliantly, you feel like if he keeps this up, your temperature might set the house on fire. Stuttering and still sniffing in some snot, you clarify how it was nothing, how much you loved to be useful, and how worth it is it to be able to enjoy time with him from 4 in the morning. A muffled chuckle vibrates against your shoulder from his cheek, as he edges closer to you, grasping your blanket, clinging to your arm. _“Geez, sugar cone… and here I thought it could not get any sweeter than ice cream... Turns out, you exist!”_ You feel like a lit bomb. You moved in with him because you wanted to get closer, and after a few months of working so close together, at this point, you are no strangers to hugging and almost cuddling… but there’s something about this whole thing that makes you feel guilty. This is why you’re still sleeping in the couch. You gulp, as his finger delicately begins to tap your ankle. _“ It’s a shame we did not do so well today, after I got you so cold and you gave it your all like that! So, to make up for it, since you’re still on the couch…. You know…I would love to…!”_ The shrill, uncaring whistle of the kettle shatters his words in half like an ice breaker tearing an iceberg asunder, as you instinctively get up, blanket sliding off your beet red face, to your fortunately, already warm feet. You bellow you’re going to get the tea ready in a high pitched tone and dash towards the kitchen without even looking at him.

You shake and cover your face as you walk, your whole world shivering, even if you feel so hot you could burn through the ground. Embarrassed and uneasy, guilt’s icy prick pierces your back. Would you really be making all these sacrifices if this sickeningly sweet blue bunny ever failed to fill your stomach with a swarm of frenzied butterflies? You had seen him push that cart around, his lighthouse of a smile shining through the snowstorms, the cornily adorable slogans on the discarded sticks of his popsicles...  aware he existed. But until you met eye to eye, when his cart got stuck and you freed it with a much needed push, being awarded not only one free item of his delicious ice cream, but seeing his smile so close up as you soaked his enthusiasm up…. That convinced you that you wanted to see him again. And now, here you are. You inattentively turn the gas off, halting the infernal wail of that mood and ear-piercing kettle, and begin getting the teabags, teacups and teaspoons ready.  Still, why you decided to go along with him when you asked him out and he insisted you just come along with him on his business was unclear to you. One would be to assume this would have been enough to confuse, turn off or even enrage anyone else… but perhaps you just were so used to seeing him pushing his cart, or considered he was so strained for cash he needed to work as much as he could, unable to take a day off, so you didn’t pay it any mind. And all the time you spent with him and got to know his intoxicating, addictive enthusiasm first hand, eventually turned into you accompanying him every day and moving in with him. It was a good thing there really wasn’t that much to your life before, or this all would have really took it apart.

The need to sigh tickled your throat from the inside as you set the teacups in your adorable flower plaid tray you used for tea and snacks. Even if you legitimately longed for his company and touch, perhaps this was all because you felt the only person who could ever love someone like you was such a sweet one. Is it really healthy to continue this way if you’re not as determined to deal with every bad situation? You ponder to yourself perhaps you should quit, but your profit today was so tiny, you feel quitting now would devastate him. You cannot abandon him. You have to be stronger. For his happiness. And yours.

Making your way through the tiny hallway between the living room and the kitchen, you take a peek into the couch, and see he hasn’t moved from his spot, now covered with the blanket he offered you, clinging to it. However, there is something mighty strange and unusual about his posture. His shoulders arched forwards, his head down, his hands on his face… oh no. No, please no. No, anything but that, no. No. This is not fair, no.

As you crassly discard the plastic tray onto the nearest console table and dash towards him, it finally hits you. The reason you have stuck with this is clear enough for you. It’s not that you need him. It’s not that he needs you. It’s that you can help him, and he can help you. And he’s not the only one you… no, the both of you can make happy. You recall the moment that hyperactive monster kid tripped in front of his cart and his money flew away right into your sweetheart’s hands, who already had his serving of Nice Cream ready for him as he unstuck his head from the snow. That nomadic, mobile steam cloud that turned to be a Vulkin family, hailing all the way from Hotland just to get something to cool their magma down.  That huge furry feller that sort of materialized before you two, carrying a huge block of ice on his shoulder, and a coin on his hand. You remember how each one of them smiled back at him when he thanked them, and in their own demeanour, appeared to share a bright little moment with you two. The difference this makes for him, yourself, and whatever little patrons you had is one that needs preserving.

You feel really determined to make things better for the both of you. Leaping over the couch and almost toppling him over, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, momentarily startling him, as he did not expect you’d be back so soon. His angelical face, still struggling to smile, lets out a single tear, which is promptly wiped out by your palms, now caressing his cheeks. _“Sugar cone! I’m sorry, I was…”_ He begins to apologize for the outburst, but you cut him short with a long, passionate kiss, pressing your torso onto him and slumping him, making him lay against the couch underneath you. The incredulous wide-eyed blush on his face slowly melts into an utterly pleased and blissful expression, as like snowflakes, a small number of tears cascade off his closed pupils. He holds you against his body with all the grip his lean body can muster, and as you lay atop him, the both of you covered by your blanket, you yet again discard his tears with your fingertips, whispering onto his wobbly, fluffy ears.

You swear to him you will take better care of yourself, if only to help him further. You beg him to not despair over your monetary troubles. You suggest making some arrangements with the ferry to take you to Hotland next day, as you have an inkling your ice cream will be more successful there. You tell him you will help him back as much as he’s helped you, and promise to share his tears next time he feels the need to cry, so he can go back to giving you that wonderful smile of his you adore so much as fast as possible. You notice he’s struggling to say he’s okay and you should not do anything else for him, but he just sinks his head on your chest. _“Thank you… thank you so much, sugar…. I’m… oh, thank you so much!”_ The smile he gifts you with is perhaps the warmest, most radiant one you’ve seen in your whole life, and you almost feel your heart melting into sugary, sticky goop. You do your best to match it as you grin back at him, whispering you accept his offer, and you will move out of the couch tonight, onto his bed. His face blushes a deep shade of blue, which seems to kick-start a quaint happy giggle of him that leaves you slightly confused. _“…Is that why you’ve been so nervous, sugar cone? I just wanted to offer getting another blanket out for you, but since you insist…”_ You grab him by the shoulders with a mortified, but happy-looking grimace, and press him against the couch, slipping your twitching hands beneath his sweater. Both of you disappear under the blanket among his giggling, which increases in pitch and intensity as you continue to tickle him harder and harder.

You will have to microwave that tea later.


End file.
